生存
by Shinjite Florana
Summary: “Li… Lilia?” His voice came as a raspy whisper. Rion listened to the empty silence around him, the pounding of his still beating heart forming an unbearable cacophony with the absence of hers. RionXLilia LiliaXRion full summary inside She lives, for now
1. 1 fear of suffering

Note _about_ author: Yo peoples. I am known as the ALL-POWERFULL GODESS, QUEEN SHINJITE OF LOST DREAMS! …Ok, maybe not, but what you do need to know is that I am a complete and utter new-be to Galerians. I was sucked into the whirl after randomly watching an amazing AMV of the movie Galerians: Rion. I couldn't find out how to put the link in here, but I'm pretty sure it's the first choice on youtube when you search 'Rion, breathe into me'. That person also has an account on here. I watched the movie after seeing it and then wrote this a few days after.

Anyways, I'm obsessed with almost every Anime out there, I sorrta ripped part of the seen in this chapter from my fav, Inuyasha, Oh! And also I use simple Japanese words when speaking, like Kawaii/cute, nani/what, ano/umm, and sometimes I add honorifics to people's names. Well, you've been warned.

Please tell me if something's up with my writing, grammatically, logically, or if the people were in character. I love constructive criticism. Also, REVIEW!!! (it's basically mandatory with the shortage of fics on this topic.)

Lastly, (I know, you're all 'get on with the story!', I'm getting there) the title, 生存, means existence. The first character means raw, the second translates to an uncompleted form of existence. (at least, that's what the translation site tells me) Ok, go, read on!

Summary: Life can't be planned, things always happen, and your bread will always land jelly side down. Rion and Lilia's lives and plans to destroy Dorothy are put on hold when an intense short circuit leaves Lilia sick and wounded. Now Rion will have to make a decision. Destiny, or life.

RionXLilia

Galerians, 生 存

Ch. 1 fear of suffering

No.

No, this wasn't happening. She dug deeper into the small bag, eventually dumping out the contents in her panic. No, they couldn't be out. There had to be some of it in there, there had to! Her vision blurred as tears threatened her eyes. She could beg and plead all she wanted, but the containers, pill bottles, and syringes all lay empty at her feet.

A yell emitted from behind her slumped figure and Lilia turned back to the seen that haunted her. A dread so deep and complete filled her that she almost gagged. This wasn't how it was supposed to happen. It wasn't supposed to end like this.

He was hurting; she could see the pain in his face. His eyes where pure white and his hands held his head, gripping it so tightly his nails almost drew blood. The psychokinetic power was whirling around him, flashing in and out of the spectrum in bolts of energy. A short-circuit.

And they had no drugs left.

No, it was impossible! They were supposed to go through it all! Kill Dorothy together! He couldn't go like this… She just couldn't handle being alone again, not without him. Yet there she crouched,

Useless.

Rion continued to howl, the pain from the shortage electrifying his entire mind and body, the raw power ripping up the street around them, filling the air with its dangerous waves. It was as if some wild animal was clawing at his subconscious from the inside, each nerve unable to snap, but igniting with the pain. It was worse then anything he had experienced. He could feel the blood running from his noise, falling to his open mouth, shouting at the pain racking his body, unable to release it.

Lilia was gasping in panic and fright, her eyes wide as she watched with terror his suffering form. She began shaking her head. She couldn't do anything. There he was in pain, _dyeing_, and she couldn't do a thing. He'd die, and she'd be alone again. Forget that Dorothy would have free rain and destroy everyone on the planet; it was the loss, the fear that the total utter and complete solitude would enclose upon her again. She had been left by everyone. Her mother, her father, and then last of all, him. She had lost him.

Through the programs they shared in their brains, they had always had an unexplainable connection. She was always able tell that he was constantly there; in the back of her mind she could always feel his comforting presence. And then, it had gone. It was unfathomable at first. She had called out to him, called again and again, but he never answered. The realization had been hard to take. Ever since they where children they had had each other's company. His presence had become a part of her, and him being gone, so was some of her.

Those where dark, nightmarish times of seclusion that were all too recent in her past. Life had almost seemed meaningless, but an instinct deep inside her gave her a false hope that she was wrong. Her mind and body couldn't wrap themselves around the fact that that part of her was gone. I had to be only temporary, they told her, it was impossible that he was truly forever gone. So she told herself to believe, she obeyed, and lived on.

And here he was. He had come back, by some miracle of God, if a true one did exist, unlike the false animatronic that had proclaimed herself the new Alpha and Omega of their now crumbling world. The connection they had had felt returned, and it became even stronger then before. It had come to her like a small light in her pitch darkness, and she had clung to it, putting her whole life on that one bond that had been and was now so important to her.

And here it was, breaking before her eyes. She stared at his face, his anguish so violent it spilled into her, the tears of pain beading at the edge of her eyes. Do nothing? Just let him die? She just couldn't accept that. She couldn't just watch on as her last and most precious bond in this world imploded upon himself, taking most of the street with him.

She got to her feet, desperation calling for her to act. "Rion!" she called to him through the madness. The street cracked beneath his feet, the bolts of uncontrolled energy thrashed wildly around her. Hair whipped across her face. She watched in eerie calmed aw as he rose to hover inches above the ground, his legs slightly bent, the rest of his body ridged.

It was emotion that fueled her to take those first cautious steps toward him. She broke into a struggling run as she forced herself through the chaos and carnage that cycloned around him. All logic was lost from her. It was suicide, she knew, getting this close to him now, but for some reason, the sting of the electricity circulating through her system and the objects that cast themselves at her soon bruised and bloody body where the least of her concerns.

Rion had by that time become conscious that she was coming toward him. Lilia continued on. "Ri-Rion, please d-don't…don't leave me alone again…!" she looked up at him, light reflecting off her watering eyes.

Rion's hands fell from his head and his eyes locked with the determined girl's in front of him. Rion's worst fears where being realized. He was dieing, Dorothy was still alive, and now he was not only going to end his own life, but the life of the only person that had befriended him. Why was she coming toward him? Couldn't she tell what was happening to him? Didn't she know what would happen to her if she stayed here?

"N-no…Li-lilia…st-stay away…pl-please…!" The words where mere whispers on the fierce winds, the agony too much to allow him to say anymore. Lilia's heart seemed to crack in her chest; she was now close enough to see the fear that was engraved into his tormented features. She wanted to help. So much she wanted to comfort him, so badly she wanted to take away his pain, pain that now coursed through her, threatening to rip her very limbs from her body. It was pure will on Rion's part that she wasn't dead already, attempting through his haze of suffering to stop her, keep her away from him.

Lilia choked back a sob. His expression was too much to handle. His blank white eyes drove through the very core of her soul. She reached up and grabbed on to both his forearms, immediately regretting it. Lilia gasped as the power transferred from him to her, locking them together as if by electricity. She could feel her insides burning, and began to taste the blood pooling in her mouth.

"No…Lilia…p-please…"

Lilia forced her head to look up at Rion's face. Red streaks ran down from his eyes, blood also dripping from the edge of his mouth. She couldn't do anything. She couldn't even express how much she wanted to help him, to be with him. She just couldn't be alone again. God, no, not again.

It was on am impulse, on seeing his expression, so lost, so confused, in so much pain, internal and external, in a final desperate attempt to convey how much she valued the bond with him, how she put her whole life, her very existence on the thin thread between them. A last effort to take away his pain, to dull his torment, however little.

She stood tall, reached out her neck and placed her lips over his. It was a light kiss, but as soon as the contact was made, bright blue irises retuned to Rion's once blank eyes. Tears finally overflowed from her eyes, the emotional and physical floodgates breaking at the contact. "Please…don't leave me again…If you do, at least allow me to come with you…please…" a deep black crept upon her shut eyes. She felt herself become heavy, then light, then, nothing at all.

Shock. An expression of utter unfathomably. For reasons unknown and unexplainable to him, Rion felt a worm sensation, almost like a tingling, trail it's way through his whole body. Slowly, ever so slowly, he felt the phenomenon find it's way through his body. Gradually replacing the unbearable torture that had seconds ago racked his entire being.

A realization came to him the instant their lips had met. The connection between them had grown so real it had become almost tangible, and this was a physical expression of it. His reason of existence was to destroy Dorothy, that task unaccomplishable without Lilia. His fate, his purpose, was intertwined with this girl now clinging to him, clinging to the last connection she had left. He also found himself clinging to her, his first and only true relationship in this world.

And for an instant, the world seemed completely clear. Life, meaning, Galerians and the world in general seemed to fit together in ways he couldn't begin to explain. But all things come to an end, and his newfound haven was lost as soon as it had dawned upon him.

Rion felt as blood spilled from Lilia's thin lips, and as the storm about him settled to a standstill, so did the rest of his world.

Only a few seconds ago, Rion had thought he had been experiencing some sort of bliss. Only a secant ago, he had almost completely forgotten about Dorothy or the rest of the Galerians. For a fraction of a moment, he had felt, for the first time in his memory, something was completely right. And just like that, the walls of that world collapsed upon him and he felt his meaning slipping, slipping farther…

Lilia slid to the ground, falling to her knees, her limp body collapsing to the ground with a light thud. Rion stood agape a moment before he himself fell to his knees. His breath was labored from his ordeal, his eyes still wide.

His mind was foggy, the complete opposite of the clearness he had felt only moments ago.

Lilia…Lilia, was she ok? Rion stared at her fallen figure. She looked as if asleep, so still she feigned death.

"Li…Lilia?" His voice came as a raspy whisper. Rion listened to the empty silence around him, the pounding of his still beating heart forming an unbearable cacophony with the absence of hers.

As if breaking from a trace, and with shaking hands, Rion rolled Lilia on her back. He hesitated only a moment before leaning forward and gently pulling an eyelid open. Her eyes where widely dilated, her irises less then thin strips encircling her eye. It stared up at him, unfocused and glass like.

"Li…Lilia…?" Rion was given no answer.

His shaking intensified. He let her eye close, falling backward as he leaned away. No…He'd done it.

He'd killed her.

The only person that had ever treated him like another person, another human. The only person who didn't try and kill him on sight. His only companion, only bond, only link to his forgotten past.

_He'd_ killed her.

He was a monster. An abomination. He didn't deserve to live. He'd killed his only ally. The one person that leaned on him for support, the only one who needed him, and who he relied on back. He had betrayed her.

She was dead.

She'd never come back. She'd never touch his face and tell him how she'd waited for him. He'd never get to see that weak shadow of a smile she had worn in her eyes bloom into full-fledged grin on her delicate lips. Dorothy would not die. Life would not continue. He had doomed the world in that one unforgivable act.

His eyes were fixed on her still form. His mind raced and fell, a heavy doom seeping into his soul, coating it in poison tar. A sudden movement, barely discernible, was caught by his vision.

No, wait. Did her chest move? He was instantly at Lilia's side. His face was centimeters from hers, angled to feel her almost nonexistent breath on his cheek.

Rion let out a breath, feeling the relief wash over him. Never in all his life, had he felt a burden so weighted lift off him. He could have flown, could have cried for joy, but he was much too practical for that. With the immediate knowledge of her life, the responsibly of her wellbeing also rushed back to the top of his priorities. Dorothy needed to be ended, and Lilia was the precious key to her demise. Also, some other feeling, some other need he felt for her had no clear reason behind it. But he found it stronger then any other emotion he had experienced before. It perplexed him.

Rion shook his head. That action might not have been the best idea after such a resent short-circuit. The twinge of an oncoming migraine threatened his senses. Rion pulled an immediate hand to his head. No, not now. He needed to concentrate. Lilia was hurt. He needed to find out to what extent.

First, her eyes where dilated. The eye receptors in her brain weren't working correctly, head or brain trauma. Her breath was shallow and sharp, suggesting,…possible lung damage? Rion's head was really starting to bug him. He tried to ignore it.

Her pulse, he needed to check that next. He used his hand not supporting his aching head to reach for her wrist. He applied light pressure on her veins with two main fingers. He counted the seconds passing steadily. He didn't need to count beats to tell that it was irregular and fast. Skipping and adding beats wasn't a good sign. She needed to see a professional. She needed a doctor.

She needed to go to a hospital.

But what hospital? The only hospital in the area that he knew of was Michelangelo Hospital, and it was no secret that it was completely under Dorothy's control. Rion felt Lilia's body lurch.

She was coughing, choking, drowning in the pooling blood in her mouth. Rion hurried to pull her up in a sitting position, leaning her limp form against himself. He patted her back in an attempt to clear an air passage. The spasm died down, leaving Rion to look at her pale figure, concern deep in his eyes.

"Lilia," He whispered to her, though he knew she could not hear him. "We need to get you to a hospital." She was slightly curled against his shoulder, still completely lifeless in her body's flaccidity. He'd have to carry her, of course. He gingerly lifted her into his arms, shifting her skillfully to his back. He positioned her form to recline on his back, shifting his center of balance to adapt with the extra weight.

So, his plan of action was simple enough. Walk around until he found another hospital, or something else that might help him, like a map or such. Asking the shady figures that sometimes passed on the street was out of the question. He had no way of knowing how informed they where of his state, or whether they where under Dorothy's command, like the majority of the city probably was.

The cold prick of a raindrop hit his noise. His face screwed up in an attempt to look at the place of impact before he blinked and turned his head to the clouded sky. He let out a sigh. How could so much change in so little time? From the moment he had woken at the Hospital he had known no simple task. The weight of mankind rested on his shoulders, along now with the unconscious girl also being sprinkled by the light shower that had begun. The night was darkening. Day would follow. Or so he hoped it would, in this world without hope.

Or possibly, it was hope that now trudged it's way down the dim street, carrying a sleeping girl on his back, rain falling swiftly to collect in the ridges of the avenue.

Word count, 2,697. I am pleased with my first chapter. Hey, guess what I had to get today. A tetanus shot. Xb I can feel my arm stiffening as I type. I probably won't be able to write tomorrow. OW! It really twinges. I'm fine with shots and the site of blood, (My mother being a lab technician my have played a part in that.) But I really dread tetanus shots because the ache they cause won't allow me to do what I want or need to.

Ok, till then, happy Turkey day! (Hey, do you guys in the U.K. get off on a different holiday when we have Thanksgiving? If not, sorry!)

All those in the U.K.: -grumble- Bloody shotty American…

(I kid, I kid! My cousin is in England right now. Hi Kyle! Xb)


	2. 2 Clouded Futures

**No time to do my last once over. sorry for the bad chapter. I'll fix it really soon. bye!**

**WARNING**: This chapter contains violence. That's why it's rated T people. -.- (also it contains Cain. The two go hand in hand)

RionXLilia forever. ♥

Word key-

-dono: an honorific. A suffix of respect equalizing to king or queen.

---

Galerians, 生 存

Ch. 2 Clouded Futures

_Drip_

_Drip_

_Drip_-"CRASH"

A very livid boy of sixteen or seventeen stood breathing heavily with his fist in a tiled wall. He pulled it out with great force, sending flakes of ceramic tile flying into the air, hovering for a split second before falling to the ground, shattering into a blaze of even smaller pieces.

Damn annoying leak.

His green eyes were ablaze. He was obviously on edge, having just smashed in an innocent dripping faucet. Although it wasn't so innocent in his opinion. He had been sitting thinking, although Rita would have referred to it as _brooding_, but what the hell did she know. Anyways, that's when he had started hearing it. A soft, steady noise. Inaudible to the human ear, or almost any ear, the sound half imagined in his head.

_Drip_

It was the ongoing leak of the washroom sink.

_Drip_

It had no worries. It was free to leak all it wanted. No one seemed to care about its imperfection, the defect going unnoticed and uncared for. It wouldn't get scolded for its properties. It wouldn't even be replaced. It worked just fine on it's own.

_Drip_

Lucky bastard. People just put up with it. Just accepted it. It didn't matter if it was slightly flawed. 'So what if they had to tightened in now and again?' they thought. It was allowed all this privilege, all this leeway. And it was a freaking inanimate object. He was a living thing and wasn't granted the same right.

_Drip_

The thing had it coming.

The fuming Galerian closed his eyes, letting out a deep breath in a seemingly futile attempt to calm himself. His anger slowly seeped from him, returning to a low blaze. Rita would be pissed that he wrecked the bathroom like this.

A smile flickered to his face. No, scratch that, a _sneer_. He had almost forgot. Rita was dead. He almost chucked.

But he was still dissatisfied.

Rita was dead, along with the rest of them, and he had nothing to complain about. Maybe that he wasn't allowed to finish a least one of them off himself, but there was something else. They had been killed by the 'better'.

His fists tightened. The rage he had just managed to quell fired up in him again, consuming his every thought. Rion. He was supposed to be 'Rion'! He would have listened to Mother; he would have killed the human girl on site. He wouldn't have unnecessarily dispatched his siblings the way that his traitor twin had. (At least he wouldn't have without a better reason then Rion did, like they were annoying him or something, not such a trivial thing like trying to kill him)

He hated Rion.

From the very moment of his existence, from the moment his identical DNA was shot into some vile with growing steroids in it or something, from the moment of his simulated conception, Cain had hated him. The 'better'.

Because he himself was 'flawed'

Imperfect

Like the rest of this sick world. Populated with its grubby little humans, the epitome of imperfection. Mother had the right idea to wipe them out and start over; he'd give her that. Mother was the only one truly perfect. She was creator. She was god.

And he hated her for it.

She was able to declare his fate. She had the ability and the right to manipulate him to bend to her slightest whim. God was one to be feared. To be respected.

Cain shook his hand, the last of the white powder on his leather-glove floating to the ground as if a cloud of quickly falling mist. After a moment of lazily dusting himself off, he walked out of the now ruined bathroom. Entering the hallway, the site of a bloody body smashed against the wall barley fazed him.

Hmm. Maybe he had thrown that guard a little to hard when he forced his way past.

Mother wouldn't be pleased.

Cain walked over to the corpse. The face was of a young man. A quick one-over showed brown hair cut short and brown eyes, now turned a faded gray. The expression was that of the rictus of death. His fourth finger on his left hand was adorned with a simple gold ring. Cain smirked at this.

Rigor mortis had begun to set in already, making his next action of bending to rip the finger from the man's hand that much easier. Cain retrieved the ring from the finger before flinging the useless appendage behind him. After examining the band a bit longer he decided it to be too cheap and nicked. He frowned, also chucking the priceless memento behind him, the rich metal making a hollow _dong_ as it hit the floor, vibrating it's last sad tone until it faded to a silent stand still.

The twisted Galerian lifted his foot, pressing it against the face of the dead man, pinning it to the wall he was slumped upon. A sick delighted amusement shone in his eyes, a crazed smile contorting his face.

"Well well, what a cheap man you must have been. Pity Mother doesn't pay much. You may have been able to afford a decent wedding ring. Then at least in would have been worth my time." His eyes grew larger, the blood lust evident in his eyes. "To bad." Cain's heavy black hiking boot pushed hard against the wall, smashing the human skull in the man's head, leaving a bloody seen of gore to slide down the wall. The boy watched, enjoying every moment of it, even if the man was already dead.

A gasp from behind him ended his disturbed bliss. Another soldier watched in stunned disgust at the practice of the "son" of his self-proclaimed ruler and god.

"What do you want?" Cain turned to face him, replacing his foot to the ground, the blood making a print on the iron floor.

The guard in front of him shook himself, trying to regain control of his churning stomach. "It's…Dorothy-dono… she's requesting you."

Cain gave a weary sigh, flicking a strand of hair away from his face. "I suppose Mother would have to stoop to using you servants as her messengers. All her other children are dead." Without another word, the boy walked past the guard and down the hall, his boots giving off a relentless click against the cold hard metal, a trail of stale blood printed in his tracks.

The guard looked on in unexplainable terror and horror. He stood silent and stiff. In a sudden motion, he clasped a hand to his mouth, rushing behind him into the lavatory, retching into the near toilet.

* * *

_Drip_

_Drip_

_Drip_-"Splash"

Miles away, a boy made his way down a street, rain trickling to collect in puddles only to be disturbed by his shuffling feet. He was a perfect clone of another with green eyes who at the moment was walking down a metallic hallway to confront a self-titled deity, through besides appearance, not much more was similar between them, especially personality wise. They were born at odds, and this boy with blue eyes brighter then the sky at dawn was in blissful unawareness of this rivalry.

Actually, he was "blissfully unaware" of many things. Though, the things he did know had nothing to do with any form of bliss, more of the exact opposite. His memories were worn, fuzzy. The sharpest of his lingerings still only lasted a few moments, the time set more current, his age closer to the present. Watery images and voices, words undecipherable floated through his mind. Pictures of a young Lilia, her form faded as if covered in a cloud of mist.

Lilia had grown from his small amount of memories. The last time he had seen her had been five years ago, right? Rion hefted the girl he was currently reflecting on farther onto his back. General progress forced her to slip gradually down as she was held piggybacked, her arms swaying limply across his shoulders, crossing laxly about his neck. Rion was thinly built, his frame lanky. His slender hips weren't able to give the correct support to hold her.

So he walked hunched, finding himself looking more then often at the puddles filling the dented ally, always becoming aware and attempting to crane his neck to scan the area as he went. Looking for a form of assistance as well as for potential adversaries.

Time slipped by as he walked, his mind always drifting, attempting to organize his hectic thoughts.

'While Lilia is injured, what is Dorothy doing? I can't continue my purpose until she is back in fit condition, but is all this concern I have right?' doubt rolled through his head as he came to the realization that he cared more for Lilia's well-being then the fate of mankind. At least, that's what it meant, didn't it? Him blowing off Dorothy, putting the event on hold, to take care of the precious person that he would willingly give his life for- wait, was that true? These realizations where starting…and confusing . He found himself discovering more and more every secand, that from the short time he had first truly met her at the hotel, he had grown an attachment that life itself was worth.

'But she's the key.' He justified himself, 'Without her and the program she has, confronting Dorothy would be impossible.' He shook his head lightly. All this emotion was starting to scare him. The feeling was deep, and every time he touched on it he felt like he was falling, sinking into a depth that he was terrified of reaching, not knowing how far it went, not even knowing if it would ever stop.

Right now he was teetering on the edge and it was giving him serous vertigo. So much so that the deep emotion decided to manifested it self as a feeling of nausea. Rion stopped in an attempt to regain a sense of balance that he had somewhere along the way lost.

Something cold slipped down to slap him lightly on the cheek. Rion's eyes moved to the edge of his vision. His startled eyes softened. A piece of Lilia's wet hair had slipped from her head to fall and sling to his face. Lilia's head lolled pressed against the gentle bow of his neck. Her body (And by default, his underneath) was draped in the black poncho he had been able to acquire before going to the Hotel. Somewhere along his jostling of her farther up his back, the hood must have slid from her head.

Rion reached a hand up to correct the exposure, shifting her weight to rely more on his hand still holding her up. Rion was finally able, after a bit of a struggle, to flip the hood back over her head. Hefting her once more farther up his back, he began to walk again.

Did the rain ever stop in this place? The dreary setting was putting Rion in a bad mood, if that was still possible; his mood always seemed to be the same. A determination, one set goal. In fact, that was all he really knew. Not being able to focus 100 percent of his thought on a singular objective left his mind wide open, wondering and lost. He could always tell himself to focus on getting Lilia to safety, to get her help, but there wasn't a set way to go about it, makeing the concept to vague to grab hold of.

Also, it made him by default think of Lilia. It was bad enough having to partially focus on her during their way to Dorothy. She was a necessity,... but she was more. And that deep, deep emotion he was so scared of, scared of what might happen if he let it take him. It was powerful, more powerful then anything he'd ever felt before, and such power terrified him.

Rion had always held life in the highest regard, maybe that's why he was so concerned for Lilia. Of course, how could he say that? How could he claim that virtue and yet, here he was, killing people. Well, not many were people. 'No,' he corrected himself, 'what do you call the guards and doctors at the hospital? They were living, natural humans.'

'If not twisted and corrupt.' A part of his mind sneered.

'No!' he shook his head. 'It's wrong, don't try and justify it!'

'Really? I don't think anyone will miss them. They didn't seem like the type to get attached to others or vise-versa. I say good riddance to em'. They would have done the same to you.'

'No! Killing is wrong!'

'Self defense, will that one work? Or how about the fact that they were doing terrible experiments on _other_ _humans._ Can't exactly defend a race that's turned on itself.'

'No, your wrong!' Rion had stopped walking. He was now shaking his head viscously, his teeth clenched tightly shut. 'I'm part of that race!'

'Really?'

Doubt

No.

It couldn't be. He was human, he was! The experiments gave him his power.

'Do you really believe that?' the voice was becoming more and more venomous with each word.

"No! I am Rion!" He had let the last part slip out vocally, his voice snapping him out of his almost trance like state.

He stood in the rain a moment. The droplets pattered lightly on all surfaces in site. Dull light glowed from all around them, the moon nonexistent in the clouded sky. Rion pulled his head back, face upturned to the troubled sky. The rain fell to him, running down his carved features in rushing streams down his face.

Why?

"Rion…"

Rion's heavy eyes widened at the sound of his name. Her voice had almost been unable to catch in the soft patter of the downfall. Lilia? Was she awake? He craned his neck in an attempt to see her.

Lilia's head was buried deep in the crook of the back of his neck. Her arms had slid back and now gripped his shoulders with such force that needles of pain shot down them in currents. She was shaking uncontrollably, and Rion could now hear her gasping breath.

"Li-Lilia?"

She began to cough and her knees buckled, her body slipping from the support of his. She slid from his back, descending ever closer to the cold hard ground of the avenue.

"Lilia!" With a sudden adrenaline rush and a grace that surprised him, Rion turned instantaneously to catch her in his thin arms before her seeming fragile body hit the unwelcoming earth. She lay limply in his careful grasp. Her head was thrown back and lolling, gasping in air that didn't seem to reach her lungs.

Rion was at a loss. What should he do? His face turned into a painful grimace. Damnit. Damnit! He didn't have clue. He could tell she needed help, needed oxygen, but how was he supposed to fix that?

Damnit!!!

Rion looked up, searching the area as if for a sign of what he should do. The streets stood empty and dark. A lamppost flickered a few blocks down, casting it's yellow halo on the street as if in an attempt to communicate in Morse code.

Lilia took a sharp intake for breath and held it. Suppressing coughs, Rion was frightened she'd suffocate herself. When it seemed as if she could hold her breath no more, the coughing stopped, and her body went limp in his hands, her low, shallow breathing the only proof of her life.

Rion looked blankly at her pale face. The rain fell feely on the two, and in the minuets they were exposed they were both soon a great deal wetter then before. Silence lengthened as the relief seeped into him. It looked like she definitely had some internal injuries, maybe even possible a lung puncture. She _needed_ to see a doctor. Rion blinked twice, tried to get his brain in gear. All that was running trough it was 'Thank God. Thank _God_.'

'Enough.' He told himself. He took a deep breath and his mind began to clear. A sudden exhaustion hit him full force. The full power of it knocked the air out of him, and for a second his legs threatened to give out under his and Lilia's combined weight. What had caused him to feel so…drained? Stress? Possibly. All the stress he had been through lately was more then a bit excessive. It had barely been one day since he had woken from the hospital and was welcomed into a life he never lived. And Lilia, she needed a break. All the bouncing she must had endured from their not exactly smooth journey was aggravating her damages. It was time to call it a night.

Rion scooped the rest of Lilia into his arms, bending and grabbing the black poncho that had fallen of them during Lilia's attack. He stood and searched with weary eyes the streets in front of him. None of the houses looked abandoned and absolutely _none_ of them looked remotely hospitable. Rion let out a sigh before deciding for the ally behind him.

A ledge of emergency ladders provided a very thin roof in the dead end, and Rion leaned heavily against the wall, slipping slowly into a worn out slump. He rested a brief moment before placing Lilia gingerly down beside him. He sat and breathed heavily. Why was he so tired? Sure, today had been demanding, both physically and mentally, but really, why was it so sudden? Rion glanced over to the resting form of the girl lying down next to him. He sat there and stared at her. Was this an effect of the link they shared? She had spoke of it, and Rion was becoming more and more aware that he could almost _feel_ her presence in his mind. Was this what Lilia had experienced for him? If so and he was this tired, Lilia must be absolutely beat.

'She's getting wet.' He thought plainly. And she was. Being unable to support her own weight in her exhausted state, instead of propping her up in a sitting position against the wall, he had laid her to the ground. The small barrier between them and the rain was thin, and Lilia's sprawled form was half-in and half-out of the safe shadow of the stares. Rion reached out and attempted to lean her against the wall. Lilia stayed put a moment before her upper torso slid, and Rion soon fount Lilia's sleeping head on his shoulder.

Rion froze for a moment. For reasons he could not see, he somehow felt this was something significant. But what was so significant about it? She was using him as a form of support for her weak body. Was he reading into it as she was relying on him? He _was_ the only thing left between her and the dark doors of abandonment. But, such a thought, abandoning Lilia, made him physically sick. No, wait, he was synthesizing this much to deep.

Sleep. If only he could sleep. But no, such a luxury of rest and absent of thought would not come to him tonight, nor anytime soon in the foreseeable future as it stood. Rion had a serous case of insomnia. So severe in fact, that he maybe only slept a couple hours a week, technically insubstantial for a human.

'That's true. No _human_ can live off such miniscule sleep hours.'

Rion cringed at the acid in the voice. He just wanted it to go away. But from the moment of his wakening he had felt the tug, the nagging of the feeling, the voice, that whatever force put him on this earth, or granted him this curse was not the results of seeming random experiments on human test subjects.

'For now.' He told himself. He opened eyes he didn't know he had closed. His eyes wandered to the girl next to him. She looked cold. His last bit of logical thought draped the poncho over both of them. He let his arm fall bonelessly to his side with a light '_thud_'.

'For now…let me be human…' he let himself be drawn into a meditative like state as his eyes closed. Numbers and collected data flying across his shut eyes. 'For now, …let me be Rion…please…'

Rion could hear, he could smell and he felt the chilled wind and still falling drizzle. He was awake, but resting. No, Sleep would not take him on its sweet journey tonight. Thoughts were too abundant for that.

---

Wow. Like, nothing happened in this chapter. Great Kami, that must have been a bore to read. Gomen! I promise things will start heating up in the next chap! Did you like my portrayal of Cain? How'd I do? Fit his personality? Personally, he's a fun psycho to write for. It' almost 2 A.M and I only got five hours of sleep last night, so I'm out for now. Sorry about this chapter. Like I said, it's late.

Please review anyways. Why? Because I love you guys. I really do…-hic-

(This is a sleep-deprivation high.) (I have never heard of that) (Well, ya learn sumpthn' new every day!)

Ja ne!

Shinjite.

Oh! Thanks bunches to those who reviewed. You all get cookies! –gives cookies- THANK YOU AND GOOD–NIGHT!


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